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Chapters (65)
  1. Cover
  2. LONE
  3. THE
  4. FOREWORD
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. CHAPTER
  7. CHAPTER
  8. CHAPTER
  9. CHAPTER
  10. CHAPTER
  11. CHAPTER
  12. CHAPTER
  13. CHAPTER
  14. CHAPTER
  15. CHAPTER
  16. CHAPTER
  17. CHAPTER
  18. CHAPTER
  19. CHAPTER
  20. CHAPTER
  21. CHAPTER
  22. CHAPTER
  23. BADGER
  24. FOREWORD
  25. CHAPTER
  26. CHAPTER
  27. CHAPTER
  28. CHAPTER
  29. CHAPTER
  30. CHAPTER
  31. CHAPTER
  32. CHAPTER
  33. CHAPTER
  34. CHAPTER
  35. CHAPTER
  36. CHAPTER
  37. CHAPTER
  38. CHAPTER
  39. CHAPTER
  40. CHAPTER
  41. CHAPTER
  42. CHAPTER
  43. THE
  44. FOREWORD
  45. CHAPTER
  46. CHAPTER
  47. CHAPTER
  48. CHAPTER
  49. CHAPTER
  50. CHAPTER
  51. CHAPTER
  52. CHAPTER
  53. CHAPTER
  54. CHAPTER
  55. CHAPTER
  56. CHAPTER
  57. CHAPTER
  58. CHAPTER
  59. CHAPTER
  60. CHAPTER
  61. CHAPTER
  62. CHAPTER
  63. CHAPTER
  64. CHAPTER
  65. EPILOGUE

“Doesn’t appear like anybody’s done a lick of work. They’re lettin’ the crops go.”

“I know. And after all the sweat we put in plowin’ and plantin’. The Lord can’t abide slothful ways. He’ll sooner or later fix them Oldham boys.”

Tanner declared, “But He generally needs some help. That’s what I keep tryin’ to tell Rusty.”

Shanty said, “If the Lord needs help, it’ll come. He’ll send out a call, and the right man will hear. He’s got mysterious ways.”

Rusty had been asleep a short time when the dog set up a racket. From out in the darkness someone yelled, “Hello the house!”

Shanty’s voice answered from one of the open windows that as yet had no glass. “Who’s out yonder?”

“Farley Brackett. All right if I come in?”

“Come ahead. Ain’t no police here.”

Rusty sensed reluctance in Shanty’s voice. Neither Farley nor his father had shown him any respect.

Farley led his horse up to the dying embers of Shanty’s outdoor fire. “You got anything a starved-out man could eat? Them state police been houndin’ me so bad I ain’t et since the day before yesterday.”

Rusty said, “There’s still some venison.”

Farley whirled in surprise, drawing his pistol. “Who in the hell? . . .”

“Rusty Shannon. You don’t need the gun.”

Farley holstered the weapon. “I come mighty close to shootin’ you. Ain’t good manners to walk up behind a man in the dark. Bad for the health, too.”

“We saw you stop for a drink of water at my place. Saw the posse that was after you.”

“They ain’t really wantin’ to catch me and have an open fight, especially Clyde Oldham. He wants to dry-gulch me where I wouldn’t have a chance.”

“Why don’t you hightail it for Mexico, or maybe Arizona?”

“Been wantin’ to, but my pockets are empty. My old daddy has some gettin’-away money waitin’ for me, but they keep a guard around his place so that I dassn’t try to go in.” He turned to Shanty. “That’s why I’ve come to your place. I need a favor from you.”

Rusty said crisply, “I don’t see where Shanty owes you any favors. You tried once to run him off of his place.”

“I have repented my ways.”

Shanty asked, “What’s the favor?”

“My old daddy works several nig—fellers like you. I don’t think the police would take much notice if another one was to show up there. It’s hard to tell you people apart. My daddy could give you the money, and you could fetch it here to me. I’d pay you for your trouble.”

Shanty said, “Your old daddy don’t have no use for the likes of me. How come you think he’d trust me with his money?”

“I’d write a note for you to give him.”